


holding close in the dark

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, Face-Sitting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Kink, Trans Character, Trans Fero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-02 21:03:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13326324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: They forge a bond, of sorts, on the ride out of Nacre. They reforge it now and again, when circumstances prompt them in that direction.





	1. City Limits, Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to Finn, for looking this over, and to Sophie, for being my amazing beta as always.

Nacre is on fire behind them, the ornate buildings cracking under the force of Ordennan troops. The streets are filled with a deafening mix of the clash of battle, the panicked screams of the unprepared, and explosions. Hella runs with her sword drawn. Behind her, Lem trips on a cobblestone and she grabs his sleeve, pulling him up. He starts to speak but there’s no time for him to give thanks. They have to keep moving, they have to get out of here. 

 

She is not going die in Nacre. She  _ refuses  _ to die in Nacre.

 

Fero is ahead of her, using his height to his advantage as he ducks under sword swings, pushing civilians and soldiers alike out of their way, leading them through the maze of streets. He’s fast on his feet, head swiveling, trying to take in as much of his surroundings as he can. Hella hopes he knows where they’re going, she certainly doesn’t.

 

They push past a group of people cowering in an alleyway. Water. The docks. Now it doesn't matter if she knows where they are-- she's Ordennan and they're by a dock, she can get them out. Her blood pounds in her ears, sounding almost as loud as the canonfire as she looks to the left and right, trying to judge the best path.

 

A man charges at them, his blade swinging towards Fero. She doesn’t have time to register if he’s undead or an Ordennan. With her blade, it makes no difference. With her skill, it takes no time.

 

She doesn’t give Fero time to give thanks either, letting go of Lem’s sleeve to pull at Fero as he stares up at her. “Come on.”

 

She’s leading them now, although she doesn’t know where. There’s a line of carriages speeding out of city, laden down with goods. The doors are marked with roughly painted Ordennan symbols over Nacre crests, and Hella almost sends out her thanks to whatever deity arranged this before she thinks better of it. She’s had enough of deities involving themselves in her life. She’d prefer her favors to come from dumb luck from now on.

 

The last carriage in line is on the smaller side as wagons go. It’s not as heavily guarded as the larger carriages, with no one watching the side they’re approaching from. She sheathes her sword, pulls at Lem and Fero to follow and  _ runs _ . This is their  _ chance _ . 

 

The muscles in her legs burn as she races after the carriage. Dirt flies up as a cannon hits one of the carriages in front of them and Hella flinches, shielding her eyes. She gets one hand on the back railing of the carriage and pulls herself up, arms aching and feet scrambling for purchase.

 

As soon as she has a foothold she looks back. Fero is reaching out and she grips his hand, pulling him up. He clings to the back of the carriage and then looks back, towards Lem. It takes both of them to pull Lem up, arms straining as he kicks off the ground. 

 

Fero uses his dagger on the lock on the back door of the carriage. The door is small, she and Lem both have to crawl to get through it, and Fero pulls the door shut behind them. Inside the carriage it’s dark and cramped, crates and bags piled high around them. Hella leans back against one of the bags, panting. 

 

Once her eyes have adjusted to the gloom she can see the other two, flopped down next to her, Fero leaning against Lem, his forehead pressed against Lem’s arm, his hand tangled in the front of Lem's shirt. Lem has an arm around Fero's side, breathing hard as he looks up at the ceiling with a dazed expression. The sounds of battle outside are distant, muffled.

 

“We should be okay now,” said Hella, once she's got her breath back, “These are Ordennan carriages. Once we get back to Ordenna we can get a boat back to Velas.”

 

“Not another boat,” groans Fero.

 

It’s such a totally ordinary Fero reaction that it startles a laugh out of her. Some of the heaviness leaves her chest with the sound. “Yep.”

 

Fero looks up. “I guess you  _ did _ save my life, like, five minutes ago.” He pauses. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

 

Hella waves a hand. “After he killed you he would have been aiming for me, I would have had to deal with him eventually.”

 

Fero huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

Their carriage swerves, crates falling into one another as an explosion sounds from outside. Hella braces herself against the crates, keeping them in place and using their weight to keep herself steady. The other two do not.

 

“Lem!” says Fero sharply.

 

It doesn’t look too bad, just a crate landing on top of Lem’s leg, but from Lem’s expression it must be heavy. It is heavy, when Hella tries to lift it.

 

“Can I…” 

 

Fero slips his hands underneath it, and she can feel the crate shift.  _ Almost _ .

 

“Lem,” she says, voice strained.

 

Lem winces as he leans forward, adding his own hands under the crate. They lift it enough for Lem to wriggle out from underneath it before they drop it back down. It makes a deep thud against the carriage floor. Hella winces, glancing towards the door they’d come in by. Even if people did try to investigate, they’d have a hard time getting in - the crates have fallen in front of the entry.

 

Fero rushes to Lem’s side, hands fluttering from Lem’s leg to his face. Hella kneels next to Lem’s leg. She can’t see any rips in the fabric or any blood, but it’s dark, and she knows that there are still things that can go wrong even without those two signs.

 

“Can you move it?” says Hella.

 

Lem’s leg shifts and he winces. “Yes. It... it hurts quite a lot though.”

 

“Well yeah, a huge thing fell on it,” says Fero, his casual tone betrayed by the look of concern on his face.

 

Hella pokes a little at Lem’s leg, trying to remember the fragments of battlefield medicine she’s picked up through the years as the carriage rocks underneath her.

 

The carriage swerves again, and she half-falls over Lem, catching herself on her hands with her body stretched over him. She goes to push herself up, feeling foolish for letting herself get caught off guard, then freezes.

 

Fero has also fallen over Lem, but unlike Hella he did not catch himself. Also unlike Hella, his hands are braced on Lem’s chest, hands curling in the fabric, and he and Lem are staring at each other, their faces so close their foreheads are almost touching. Lem reaches up and covers Fero’s hands with one of his own, and despite the roar of cannon fire outside, Hella can still hear Fero’s sharp inhale of breath.

 

Fero leans in, just a little, as the carriage rocks again. The motion of it pushes him the rest of the way, making his kiss with Lem clumsy for a moment before they settle. Lem pulls at Fero’s shoulders and Fero clambers on top of Lem. Hella has to lean back to avoid his flailing limbs, putting her off balance for the next carriage motion and sending her directly into Fero and Lem.

 

The motion of it leaves them pressed against her-- Lem half under her, Fero against her side between their bodies and a stack of crates. Their bodies are warm and alive, and despite the rocking of the carriage they feel solid and safe. She wants so desperately to lean into them and forget the city they’re leaving behind.

 

In this darkened, unfamiliar space, it almost feels as though she is in a dream. And really, she’s never been one to deny herself even when there  _ were _ consequences hanging overhead. Leaning into them both is as easy as breathing.

 

Hella leans forward and kisses Fero first. He gasps, shifting for a better angle and sinking into their kiss immediately. Hella tangles a hand in his hair, pulling him forward, and she can feel his hands try to find purchase at the front of her armor, his nails scratching at the worn leather.

 

The carriage jolts, making their teeth clack together and Fero breaks off the kiss, looking sheepish. He glances towards Lem. Hella shrugs, and leans in towards Lem, putting her hand on the floor of the carriage next to his head and leaning down to him slowly.

 

She’s never kissed anyone with tusks before, and it takes her a moment to figure out an angle that actually works without something spiking her lip unexpectedly. When she does, she can feel Lem make a small sound in the back of his throat, and she can hear Fero gasp in her ear, the sound of it shredding the last vestiges of her self-control.

 

She tangles her hand in Lem’s hair, fixing him in place as she moves to straddle him. She can feel Fero where he’s pinned between their bodies and a large hessian bag, rubbing himself shamelessly against her thigh. He nuzzles her shoulder as she bends down to kiss Lem again, his hands fluttering between her and Lem’s bodies as though he cannot work out who to be touching. His touch is light, but it send sparks over her skin, and she shifts so that he has more room to roll his hips against her. Fero groans, mouthing along her collarbone where he can reach and slipping a hand around her thigh to tease at her through the fabric. Hella bites her lips, reaching up to run a hand through Fero’s hair.

 

She jolts on top of Lem with the carriage motion and he groans, hips arching upwards against her. The layers of fabric pull at her, making her skin feel tight and hot. Hella tilts his chin up towards  her , silencing him with a kiss.

 

“Quiet,” says Hella, when they break apart for air, “We don’t want them to hear us.”

 

Lem nods, biting his lip, barely muffling the sound he makes as she grinds more purposefully against him. Hella tugs at Fero’s hair, bending him until his head is level with Lem’s.

 

“He’s still too loud,” says Hella, her voice rough. 

 

“Oh,” says Fero, his eyes going wide for a moment, before he leans in to kiss Lem.

 

Lem’s hands clench around her sides as she rolls her hips, his groan now muffled by Fero’s mouth. Fero’s hands flutter around Lem’s face as if he’s not sure where they should settle-- Lem’s hair, Lem’s cheek, Lem’s shoulder. Hella watches them as she grinds against Lem, Fero’s quick and desperate motions paired with Lem’s slow, needy ones. 

 

She can feel a trickle of sweat run down her back, the trembling in her thighs, the sharp pain in her knees as the carriage bumps and rattles underneath, but overwhelming all that is the hot ache of  _ want  _ in her gut, the building sensation that this is not  _ enough _ .

 

Lem bucks up underneath her as her hands go to the fastening of his trousers and he gasps, breaking off his kiss with Fero to look at her. Fero looks over too, a dazed expression on his face. Even in the dim light his lips look swollen and red. She pauses her movements, reaching out with one hand to cup Fero's cheek, running the pad of her thumb over his lower lip. Fero circles the tip of her thumb with his tongue and Hella bites her lip, muffling a soft whine. She rocks her hips back and forth over the bulge in Lem's pants. Lem groans, pressing his face into his shoulder. 

 

Hella pauses, one hand still on the laces of Lem’s pants. “Okay?”

 

Lem lets out a long breath, nodding fast, his eyes dropping to follow the movement of her hands as she frees his erection. She strokes along his length for a moment, before Fero’s hand covers hers. She looks up at Fero questioningly.

 

“Can I…?” says Fero, biting his lip.

 

Hella shrugs, looking at Lem. His cheeks are flushed a deep green, his mouth open slightly. He nods.

 

Instead of using his hands, Fero twists his small body in the space, leaning over to take Lem into his mouth. Lem covers his mouth to muffle the tail end of a shout. Hella bites her lip to quieten her own noise of surprise, her weight on top of him the only thing that prevents Lem from thrusting up sharply into Fero’s mouth. She can feel Lem’s legs trembling under her, the ache between her thighs building to a sharp, needy  _ throb _ .

 

Fero takes Lem in almost half-way before drawing back to lap at the head of Lem’s cock. Lem whimpers, pressing his hand more firmly against his mouth, his other hand tangling itself in Fero's hair. 

 

Hella wriggles, loosening her own breeches enough to get a hand inside of them. Her underthings feel soaked as she pulls them aside. She lets out a groan as she pushes in two fingers easily, desperate for any kind of friction. She matches the rhythm of her fingers to Fero’s eager mouth, circling her clit as Fero draws back again to suck delicately at the head of Lem’s erection. Hella and Lem both groan, the noise lost as another explosions sounds. She pauses to pull at her breeches, giving her hand a better angle. The carriage swerves again, throwing Fero back against the bag behind him.

 

She puts a hand to Fero’s face as Lem reaches up to do the same. Lem leaves his hand there as Hella leans in to kiss Fero. He makes a high, needy sound as she presses him back against the bag, and Hella can feel Lem’s hand between their bodies, teasing Fero through the fabric as Fero had done to her earlier. Fero whines into her mouth, his hands clutching at the rough fabric of the bags as he rolls his hips against Lem’s hand.

 

The carriage jolts again as it swerves, the sound of dirt hitting the side of the carriage indicating a very near miss. The motion of it throws Hella back a little, making her slide against Lem. She gasps sharply, and Lem gives a pleading whine, bucking his hips up towards her.

 

Well. Let it never be said Hella Varal cannot be merciful, when it suits her.

 

Hella puts a hand on Fero’s shoulder, using him for support as she sinks down onto Lem. Lem arches underneath her, his breathing ragged and hands scrabbling against the floor of the carriage, the crates beside his head. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Fero take the hand Lem was scraping against the crates, bringing it to his mouth to lavish it with the same kind of attention he was previously giving Lem’s cock.

 

The sound Lem makes is muffled by Hella’s mouth as she leans down to kiss him, the slide of her tongue mimicking their other movements. Lem makes a desperate whine, leaning back.

 

“I’m--” stutters Lem, in between breaths, “I-I can’t--  _ Hella- _ -”

 

“If you can’t finish me off,” says Hella, pleased that she sounds far more in control than she feels, “Fero will do it, right Fero?”

 

Fero lets Lem’s fingers fall from his lips, nodding. “Happy to.” 

 

He leans down, nuzzling the sides of their faces before he kisses Lem, his hands going to Lem’s hair. Hella’s face is still close, close enough to hear Lem’s soft gasps Fero nips at his lower lip. Hella bites down on her own lip, rolling her hips faster, chasing the slow-building ache.

 

Lem gasps, hips stuttering upwards as he comes. Fero strokes a hand over Lem’s cheek as she rides Lem through the aftershocks. Hella rests her hand on Lem’s stomach, feeling his muscles twitch underneath her. Despite the rocking of the carriage, he feels steady under her hands.

 

Hella slips off Lem, wrinkling her nose at the wetness. Lem makes a noise at the movement, and he and Fero look towards her.

 

“Oh, right,” says Fero, “clean up.”

 

He shifts around in the small space, bending his head over Lem. Lem gasps as Fero laps at his sensitive skin, his thighs trembling under Hella. She puts a hand on Fero’s shoulder and he looks up at her, licking his lips slowly. Her eyes follow the movement of his tongue.

 

She has to shuffle him forward, leaning a little over Lem, for Fero to reach her. Fero grips one of her thighs, and she can feel the sweat-damp of his hand through the fabric of her breeches. He licks at the inside of her thighs first, cleaning Lem’s seed from her skin and sucking bruises along her thighs, before he teases into the wet heat of her. Hella gasps, hips rolling forward against Fero’s mouth. She tugs on his hair, her other hand bracing herself against the crates as the carriage rocks under them.

 

Fero is as eager with her as he had been with Lem. Hella’s gasp quickly turns to a groan as Fero flicks the flat of his tongue against her clit, lavishing attention on her with mouth and hands. Lem runs a clumsy hand through Fero’s hair and Fero groans, the vibration of it like storm-driven waves crashing against a shore, breaking over the stone walls of her control. 

 

Hella grips Fero’s hair tight, holding him in place as she wrings the last of her pleasure from his mouth. She sits back on Lem’s legs, feeling her muscles tremble. Fero wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, chest heaving as he looks at her. She reaches out to smooth down Fero’s hair, made wild by Lem’s hands, and Fero leans into her touch. 

 

She keeps her hands there, lightly running her nails along Fero’s scalp, as Lem’s fingers trail down Fero’s neck, down his chest, to palm at the front on Fero’s pants. Fero whines, hips arching against Lem’s hand as his head tipped back against the bag behind him. 

 

Hella leans forward, catching Fero’s hands and pinning them above his head. They lock eyes for a moment, breathing heavily, the moment only broken as Lem’s hand creeps under the waistband of Fero’s pants. Fero arches, rubbing his face against the rough fabric of the bag behind him. 

 

Hella flicks her gaze between the slick movement of Lem's hand to Fero's face, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth open, breathing raggedly. Lem sits up a little, shifting so that he can kiss Fero, pressing him back against the bag.

 

Hella lowers her head, kissing a trail along Fero’s throat, discovering which places make him gasp and shiver, and which make him groan into Lem’s mouth. Hella runs her hand down Fero’s chest, slipping her hand under his shirt to skim a hand along his stomach, feeling the muscles there tense and tremble as Lem’s hand works, up his chest to palm his breasts, running her thumbs teasingly over his nipples. 

 

Fero gasps as he comes, a quiet sound for someone normally so loud, his hands clutching at the cloth of the bag. He nuzzles into the top of Hella’s head, placing a sloppy kiss there before tilting to do the same to Lem.

 

Lem and Hella guide Fero down, finally wriggling him out from between their bodies. He lies down mostly on top of Lem, his hand flopping over the side of Lem’s body to rest on Hella’s shoulder. She can feel the heat of his body seeping through the fabric, a pleasant sensation.

 

“Well,” says Lem, letting out a long exhale after a moment.

 

Hella waits, watching him out of the corner of her eye, but he doesn’t seem to have any sort of follow up. His hand is stroking through Fero’s hair absent-mindedly. Fero’s eyes are shut, a faint smile on his face.

 

“We should be there by morning,” says Hella.

 

She busies herself with straightening her clothing before settling down properly next to them. It seems foolish to avoid touch, so she rests her head against Lem’s shoulder. It’s far more comfortable that the hard floor of the carriage, and Lem doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a sleepy kiss to her forehead.

 

She stays awake while the other two sleep, letting the quiet sound of their breathing blot out the carnage outside as they make their way to Ordenna, to safety.


	2. Snow and Firelight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to Finn, for looking this over, and to Sophie, for being my amazing beta as always.

It’s been another long day, in a series of long days. Hella feels tired-- tired of the cold, tired of fighting for and against other people, tired of the politics of Rosemerrow.

 

The days feel even longer since the sun went away. It’s funny, Hella never really paid it much attention before-- it was always more Hadrian’s area of concern than hers-- but now every morning she looks to the sky, checking to see if it’s there. She’s caught Adaire doing it too, although Adaire always denies it. It makes her feel on edge, like she's waiting for something, some further action, like she’s on the losing side of a siege.

 

And then the stars fell. 

 

At the back of her mind, there’s the sudden prickle of Adelaide’s amusement. Hella tries to focus on the howl of the wind to drown her out. It doesn’t really help.

 

She picks up her pace, heading to the tavern where she’s renting a room. This will be the last night of sleeping in a real bed and she wants to make the most of it. She even splashed out and got a room with a big fireplace. Hella’s pretty sure the guy wanted to overcharge her, until she’d put a hand on her sword hilt. Sometimes a light touch like that can be effective in lowering an unreasonable price, even in a place like Rosemerrow. And people know her now, which helps.

 

_ Queen Killer _ , smirks Adelaide.

 

Hella clenches her teeth and pushes open the door to the tavern, immediately hit by a wave of heat and sound. The tables are crowded with people, the bar even more so, people trying to draw out their night before they have to head back out into the cold. She has to skirt the edge of the room to get towards the stairs. Every time someone brushes against her it  _ prickles.  _ She tenses herself, muscles clenching, to stop herself from lashing out. 

 

As she makes her way through, shouldering past people who are far too drunk to care if she’s being gentle or not, she spots Fero. Despite the crowd, he’s managed to keep a table all to himself, shoulders hunched and staring into a mostly-full drink. 

 

Hella doesn't think she's even seen him be so still. 

 

Granted, she hasn’t really seen him much, since Nacre. They’d sat together at the group brunch, but there wasn’t much time for catching up in between information-swapping. Hella lets out a breath through her nose. She’s going to have to pass him anyway to get to the stairs. May as well say hello.

 

She leans one hand on the back of the chair opposite. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

 

Fero looks up, blinking in surprise. “Oh. Yeah, well. Here I am anyway.”

 

The smile he gives her looks odd in a way she can’t quite place. It might have something to do with how his eyes slide off her face to the wall behind her, unfocused. 

 

“I didn’t think you were a mead guy,” says Hella, leaning over further.

 

Fero shrugs. “I didn’t really want it but they wouldn’t let me sit here without ordering something. I just asked them to give me whatever.”

 

“I thought you’d know what to ask for,” says Hella, “After all, this is your town.”

 

“Not really,” says Fero, “Not for a while.”

 

Fero’s face stays serious and still, despite Hella’s light tone. Now that she’s looking at him more closely, she can see his eyes look red-rimmed. She should have gone a different way across the room. She’s really not in the mood for a serious discussion right now.

 

She plucks the tankard from his hands, taking a sip and wrinkling her nose at the watered-down taste of it. Fero huffs a laugh. It’s quiet, and there’s none of the warmth she usually associates with him in it, but at least it chases away his still expression for a moment. 

 

“Yeah, I tried to warn you.”

 

“Guess we both got taken for fools,” says Hella.

 

“Yeah,” says Fero quietly, going still again. 

 

The tavern around them is raucous, and it feels like they must be the only people in here who aren’t yelling. There’s something both soothing and jarring about it, as though they’re in their own private space. She’s not a loud person by nature, not given to making a racket unless there’s a real reason for it, but that’s different from not having any words at her disposal at all. She keeps ahold of the tankard, running a nail along the seam in the metal. It’s always easier to get through conversations like this when she has something to do with her hands. 

 

“So,” says Fero after the silence has stretched out too long for his casual tone to sound natural, “you’re leaving for the tower soon?”

 

Hella hums in agreement and takes a second drink. It’s not really any better than the first.

 

“We’re supposed to be going to the Archives,” says Fero, “Lem’s gotta drop something off and, you know, where Lem goes I go.”

 

Hella frowns. “I thought you were chasing down Arrell.”

 

“That too.”

 

“All ready and packed?” says Hella. She winces. It sounds like something Hadrian would say.

 

Fero doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah. Nothing left to do now but…”

 

“Drink mediocre and overpriced mead?” guesses Hella.

 

He lets out a breath of laughter. “I was going to say ‘wait until morning’, I guess.” He pauses. “I was trying to… nevermind.”

 

Hella taps her fingers on the cold metal of the tankard. “Trying to what?”

 

Fero wriggles in his seat. “I was trying to, I don’t know.” He lets out a long breath. “It’s been a long day. I’d just like to not think for a while.”

 

Hella pauses for a moment, considering. She can remember the feeling of the rocking carriage under her feet, Fero’s mouth leaving bruises on the inside of her thighs, his loud, high whine in her ear, blocking out even the noise of gunfire outside. His small hands, gripping her thighs, first to steady himself against the movement of the carriage and then later to keep her steady above him. 

 

In her head, Adelaide laughs, and Hella wonders if Fero’s whine would be loud enough to cover the sound, if any sound would be loud enough.

 

She looks down at Fero for a moment. Not thinking sounds pretty good to her too right about now. 

 

“I know of a way to help with that, if you want,” says Hella. She pauses. “We didn’t do a lot of thinking on the way out of Nacre.”

 

People are starting to hear about Nacre now, but her words are their own sort of code. She hasn’t told anyone the details of how they left and she’s fairly sure that Lem and Fero haven’t either.

 

She does think about it though, sometimes, when she can chase Adelaide from her thoughts. More often now-- now that it’s cold and she’s too tired to bother charming someone into bed.

 

Fero looks sharply up at her. Hella raises her eyebrow at him. 

 

“Yeah, okay,” says Fero. His voice cracks a little on the second word, and he swallows.

 

“Good,” says Hella.

 

She drains the last of the mead before setting it back down on the table, and inclines her head towards the stairs. Fero hops up, his movements a little stiff. She wonders how long he’s been sitting there.

 

Fero follows her up the stairs, scuffing his feet on the worn floor of the hallway as he waits for her to unlock her door. She locks it after they’re inside, even though they’ve both seen enough proof in the last day that locks are no real measure of safety. Her blade is a better defence than any locks for that anyway. 

 

She lights a fire, stoking at the fireplace until the room begins to warm, and turns back to Fero. He hasn’t moved much further into the room, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He tilts his head up to look at her as she steps towards him.

 

Fero sucks his bottom lip, looking up at her. It’s a little too easy for her to focus in on the sight, remembering just what Fero could do with his mouth. She puts a hand to his cheek, cupping it gently, brushing the pad of her thumb over Fero's bottom lip. She can feel the movement of air across it as he sharply inhales. 

 

His hands curl and uncurl by his sides, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, the edge of his pocket. “How do you want to, um…”

 

“Probably easiest on the bed?” says Hella, keeping her voice casual.

 

Fero blinks, looking around the room like he’s taking it in properly for the first time. “Oh. Yeah.”

 

Hella sits down first, motioning beside her. Fero kicks his feet a little when he sits, his toes just brushing the floor. Fero takes a deep breath, then bites his lip. She puts her hand over his, where he’s rolling the hem of his shirt between his fingers. She can see his shoulders twitching under the fabric of his shirt. 

 

“Fero,” says Hella, “We don’t actually have to-- it was just an offer. I won’t be offended if you leave.”

 

“It’s not-- I mean, we’ve already, you know, when we were leaving Nacre,” says Fero. His cheeks have a pink tinge to them.

 

“Still,” says Hella.

 

His hand is twitchy under hers, and she moves to take it back but Fero grabs at it, holding onto her hand with both of his. Hella frowns down at him, but he keeps looking down at her hand, his expression hidden.

 

“It was really… It felt simple when we were leaving Nacre,” says Fero, “It felt easy.”

 

“With that carriage rocking like that?” says Hella, her tone joking, because if  _ he’s _ not going to be the joking one then  _ she _ has to be.

 

Fero lets out a quiet breath of laughter. “I guess when you put it like that.”

 

“It’s a miracle any of us managed to keep our footing,” says Hella.

 

“We didn’t, actually,” says Fero, grinning, and ah,  _ there’s _ the Fero she remembers.

 

Hella hums, amused. Fero runs his fingers lightly over her hand, drawing unseen shapes across her palm, tracing around calluses. 

 

Hella puts her free hand under his chin, tilting his face up to look at her. “Fero,” she says softly.

 

She can feel Fero’s throat work as he swallows. 

 

“I wasn’t thinking at  _ all _ on the carriage ride out of Nacre,” says Fero, “can we… do you think it'll work like that again?”

 

“Yes,” says Hella simply, and leans down to kiss him.

 

She means to be chaste with him to start, since he seems a little fragile, but Fero bites at her bottom lip, his hands coming up to grasp her shirt. Hella pulls him closer, deepening the kiss, moving Fero so that he’s sitting on her lap. He makes a soft sound into her mouth as she lifts him, and something in her chest curls, warm and pleased at drawing that response from him. She keeps one hand on his hip, keeping him fixed in place as he shifts against her, and slides another up his body to tangle in his hair. Fero makes another noise into her mouth, the sound taking on the edge of a moan as she grips his hair a little tighter.

 

She can feel his hands twisting in her shirt as his hips roll forward against her again and again. Warmth blooms in her gut, tingling as it spreads. It almost,  _ almost _ , blots out the fuzzy pressure of Adelaide in her mind.

 

Hella bites lightly at Fero’s lip as she breaks off the kiss. Fero whines, a high and needy sound, trying to chase her mouth as she leans back. Hella chuckles, bending to kiss under his jaw and down his neck. She can feel his heart pounding under her lips and she sucks a bruise there, letting her teeth scrape over the sensitive skin.

 

Fero groans, biting his lip to attempt to muffle the sound. Well. She can’t be having  _ that _ .

 

“The people downstairs can’t hear you, you know,” says Hella, “and I  _ want _ to.” She leans in, close enough to Fero’s ear that her lips brush against his skin. “Be loud Fero. I know you can be.”

 

She punctuates the sentence by biting down lightly on Fero’s earlobe, and he groans softly. The hand gripping her shirt twists again. 

 

“Come on Fero,” says Hella, “I know you can do better than that.”

 

This time, she presses the heel of her palm down onto Fero’s pants. His groan is louder this time, accompanied by a small thrust upwards. Fero’s cheeks are flushed a deep and very pretty pink. It was too dark to see on the carriage ride out of Nacre, but she remembers the sound well enough. 

 

She rocks her own hips against him, enjoying the pull of fabric against her skin and Fero’s loud reaction. Fero pulls her in for a kiss, his movements made uncoordinated by lust. Hella brings a hand up to cradle the back of his head, guiding him. Fero makes a deep sound into her mouth, and she smiles. That’s more like it.

 

Fero kisses a trail down her neck, mouthing at the fabric when he reaches her shirt. His hands grasp the hem of her shirt and he pauses, looking up at her. Hella smiles, inclining her head, helping him pull her shirt the rest of the way off when Fero gets distracted by kissing a trail along her stomach up her chest, to mouth at her breasts. Hella arches into him, groaning and tangling her hands in his hair as he runs his tongue over her nipple.

 

Hella shifts, letting her thigh slip between Fero’s legs. Fero lets out a ragged gasp, grinding down immediately, his movements quick and desperate. Hella runs her hands up and down his back, letting her nails get caught on the ragged fabric of his shirt.

 

Fero whines. “ _ Hella _ , c’mon.”

 

“We’ve got all night,” says Hella.

 

Fero groans, his nails digging into the skin of her sides. “Oh gods, you aren’t going to make me wait all  _ night _ ,  _ Hella _ ”

 

“We’ll see.”

 

Fero makes a choked-off groaning sound. “ _ Please _ .”

 

“You’re still fully clothed,” says Hella, her tone teasing. 

 

Fero lets go of her to whip his shirt off, his hands undoing the laces of his breeches and pushing them down as far as he can without moving from her lap. Hella huffs a laugh, bringing her hands to his hips to slow his movements. Fero bucks against her grip.

 

“I said  _ we’ll see, _ okay,” says Hella, “so just  _ trust  _ me.”

 

Fero stills, muscles trembling with the effort, chest heaving. He bites his lip as he looks up at her.

 

“Good,” says Hella.

 

She leans down to kiss him, keeping a grip on his side with one hand as her other hand wriggles its way inside his pants. She can feel his dampness even through the fabric, but he’s already so wet it’s easy for her to slide a finger inside him. Fero gasps her name as she crooks her finger, repeating it over and over again with her movements like a prayer, even as she kisses him.

 

His hands slide over her body, cupping her breasts and teasing his calloused fingers over her nipples. Hella sighs, tipping her head back. The heat of his hands travels down her body to join the pulling ache in her belly.

 

Fero whimpers. She looks down and he's still biting his lip, his breath coming in short pants as he tries to buck forward onto her fingers. When he sees her watching him he licks his lips. Hella trails her hands from his hip to cup his face, brushing her thumb across his lip following the path his tongue had taken.

 

“ _ Please _ ,” says Fero again. He sounds  _ wrecked _ , and that, too, joins the ache inside her.

 

Hella withdraws her finger and Fero whines, high and loud. Hella pulls him forward into a kiss as she shifts, lying Fero on the bed and leaning over him. 

 

“Oh,” breathes Fero. 

 

“I told you to trust me,” says Hella, “stop worrying so much, it's too close to thinking.”

 

“I'm not--” 

 

Fero breaks off and Hella tugs his pants down, laughing a little as Fero eagerly kicks them off his legs completely, leaving him bare under her gaze. She runs her hands up Fero's legs slowly, running her nails lightly over his skin as she reaches the inside of his thighs. 

 

Fero's breath is ragged in the stillness of the room. Hella looks up at him as she runs two fingers over his slick entrance. He squirms, letting out a loud moan. 

 

“So,” says Hella, her voice quiet, “do you trust me?”

 

“Yes,” pants Fero, “Yes, I do, with my life, please, Hella, I trust you, I--”

 

Fero's moan is even louder this time as Hella presses her fingers slowly into him, scissoring him open. She uses her other hand to press down on his hip as he writhes on the bed, his hands gripping the sheets tightly.

 

“That's right Fero,” says Hella, “nice and loud for me.”

 

Fero babbles, his words trailing off into groans as Hella crooks her fingers, seeing what different reactions and sounds she can pull from him as she speeds or slows. She circles his clit with her thumb, just shy of giving Fero the friction he needs. 

 

“Hella,” gasps Fero, his voice ragged, hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets. 

 

Hella hums, shifting up to kiss him as she strokes his clit, her fingers still moving inside of him. Fero gasps into her mouth, the tight wet heat of him clenching around her fingers.

 

“Hella,” says Fero, the words coming out on small pants of breath, “Hella, Hella,  _ Hella _ .”

 

Hella kisses him again until he stops trembling under her, muffling the soft sound he makes as she withdraws her fingers. She trails her hands up and down his body, fingers running over old and new scars.

 

He props himself up on a shaky elbow, letting out a breath as he looks up at her. 

 

“So, uh,” says Fero slowly, “your turn?”

 

She pulls him in for another kiss, letting the heat of it build back up slowly. Fero runs his hands along her sides, stopping as he reaches the waistband of her pants.

 

Hella pulls back to quickly wriggle out of them, shifting their positions so that Fero's thigh is between her legs. She grinds down, moving in a slow circle, her hands flexing in the sheets on either side of Fero's head. 

 

Fero slides his hands up her body to her chest, teasing over her nipples with his thumbs. Hella arches into his touch. Heat spreads out from their points of contact, making Hella feel warm in a way that she hasn't felt a long time. 

 

And then. In the back of her mind, Adelaide huffs a breath, the sound of it somewhere between annoyance and laughter. Hella stills, biting her lip. 

 

“Hey,” says Fero, growing up at her, “you okay?”

 

“It's nothing,” says Hella. 

 

Adelaide chuckles and Hella clenches her hands in the sheets.

 

“I mean, it's like you said,” says Fero, “we don't have to, you know-- I mean, I want to like, even things out, but--”

 

“It's not you,” says Hella, “it's Adelaide.”

 

Fero gives her a crooked smile. “Haven't heard that one before.”

 

Hella makes an annoyed sound at the back of her throat. “No, I mean it's  _ literally  _ Adelaide.”

 

“Isn't she, you know, dead?”

 

Hella huffs a breath. “Come on. You and I both know that's not much of a barrier, especially these days. Ever since she died, she's been sort of… with me. In my head? Not all the time, but…” Hella sighs. “Whenever she feels like it.”

 

“Oh.” Fero tilts his head to one side, thinking for a moment. “That sucks.”

 

“I uh, I was sort of hoping she'd get bored and leave me alone, or the connection would weaken, or something, but…” Hella sighs. 

 

She looks down at Fero. He's running his hands up and down her arms where they're still braced either side of his head. It suddenly occurs to her that Fero is the first person she's told, and she is currently naked and still straddling his thigh. Hella laughs, scrubbing a hand over her face. 

 

“What?” says Fero. 

 

“It's-- this is ridiculous,” says Hella.

 

“What about our lives isn't?” says Fero. 

 

“This is especially ridiculous,” says Hella, “it's bad enough that my sword is full of ghosts, now I've got one in my head too.”

 

“Is she here right now?” says Fero. His hands still their movements on her arms. 

 

“She wasn't before,” says Hella, “but when I started to-- she came back, just now.”

 

“Oh,” says Fero, grinning, “I guess I was too loud for her to want to deal with.”

 

Hella feels her face heat up. “I mean-- sort of?”

 

Fero laughs, a loud and bright sound. “Seriously?”

 

Hella huffs a laugh. “You were... very good at drowning her out.”

 

“I’d be happy to do it again, but I think I might die if I try right now,” says Fero, “besides, it seems kind of unfair.”

 

“It’s fine,” says Hella, her voice tight.

 

Fero waves a hand. “Nah, it’s not really. Here, I’ll see if I can drown her out another way.”

 

Before she can say anything, he’s wriggling down the bed, his face underneath her spread thighs. She can feel his nails digging into her skin slightly, and for a moment the sensation of it overlaying with her memories of their carriage ride out of Nacre is so strong she could swear she hears cannon fire ringing in her ears.

 

Fero runs his tongue over her entrance slowly, and Hella lets out a shaky breath, her hand petting lightly through his hair. Fero makes a small, pleased noise, before spreading her thighs wider above him, his mouth working deep into her. Every movement he makes sends a streak of lightning through her, and she can feel her thighs shake with the effort of not grinding down hard onto his face.

 

She does allow herself to roll her hips against his mouth, which given the noise Fero makes in response, he seems to enjoy. There’s still the fuzzy pressure of Adelaide in her mind, but less than before, as though Hella is hearing her from a long distance away instead of Adelaide directly in her ear.

 

Under her, Fero changes tactics, and starts to use his hand. Hella almost shouts at the sensation, reaching forward to grab at the headboard for support. His fingers curl inside of her and he lavishes attention on her clit. Her hips grind down before she can catch herself, but instead of protesting at the changed weight Fero moans where he’s pressed against her.

 

“Gods,  _ Fero _ ,” says Hella, “still loud even like this.”

 

Fero’s hand flexes on her thigh, reminding her again of Nacre and also of her own nights alone, trying to recreate the carriage ride with her own hands. Fero’s nails dig into her skin and she’s not sure if it’s happening now, or in her memory, but the sensation of it sends her over the edge, moaning Fero’s name as her hands grip the headboard tight.

 

She flops down next to Fero and he rolls towards her, curling into her side. They’re both panting, their sweat slicked skin sticking as one of them shifts. The room feels so warm that if Hella closed her eyes she could almost pretend it was summer.

 

Fero presses a kiss to her shoulder, pulling back slightly to look up at her. “Hey so, this bed is pretty big. And I have some time tomorrow before I have to go to the Archives….”

 

Hella laughs. “Is that so?”

 

Fero nods. “Yep! Heaps of time, if you wanna…”

 

“If I want to…” Hella draws the words out, teasingly.

 

“If you want help drowning things out,” says Fero.

 

His voice is light, but his eyes are wide and serious. Hella swallows.

 

“Yeah,” she says, keeping her voice casual to match his tone, “I think I might have time for that.”

 

Fero grins up at her, wriggling closer to rest his head on her shoulder. She manages to pull the blanket over both of them despite Fero trying to lie on top of her, sliding her arm around his side to pull him close. He makes a pleased sound, nuzzling against her shoulder.

 

In the hearth, the fire has died down to lower embers, but she can easily stoke it back up in the morning. In his sleep, Fero lets out a soft sigh, and Hella kisses the top of his head, just once, before she closes her eyes, feeling her body relax against him under the covers.

 

That night, Hella sleeps deeply without dreams for the first time in a long time.


	3. The Twilight Between Worlds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I wrote this before they had a late night talk with each other in canon!!
> 
> thanks to Finn, for looking this over, and to Sophie, for being my amazing beta as always.

Lem knocks on Hella's door, feeling nervous and more than a little foolish.

 

She'd gone to bed quite early on in the evening. Lem hadn't stayed up much later than she had, the last day weighing heavily on him (or, was it two days? Everything had been a little muddled, since the dam, and-- well. Best not to think about that. Could have gone better, really. Best not to think about it).

 

He'd lain there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the roof with his eyes in the sunlight. It had seemed so quiet. Of course, that was probably just because he was used to travelling with Fero who talked himself to sleep most night, falling asleep mid-sentence sometimes even-- actually, best not to think about Fero either. 

 

It should have been far easier to sleep without Fero, really. For such a small person he could take up an absolutely enormous sleeping space, stealing more than his fair share of the covers any time they’d had to share a blanket,  _ and  _ he snored,  _ and  _ he was a complete octopus in his sleep,  _ and  _ he was a light sleeper, stirring at any small motion you made, blinking sleepily up at you any time you tried to get more comfortable-- Lem shook himself. It was probably just adrenaline keeping him awake. It had been a big day.

 

He knocks on the door again, tilting his head to listen. He can hear movement behind the door.

 

“It’s me,” whispers Lem, “Can I come in?”

 

There is a scraping sound, and Hella cracks the door open. It’sjust wide enough that Lem can see she isn’t wearing her armour, tight braids at odds with her soft sleep clothes.

 

“What’s happened?” says Hella.

 

Lem blinks. “Oh. Um. Nothing, I just--” he waves his hands.

 

Hella sighs, stepping back to open the door so he can enter. She closes it after him, folding her arms over her chest and watching him closely, her hand still resting on the back of the chair she’d had under the door handle. Lem fidgeted.

 

“Lem,” says Hella finally, “It’s late.”

 

“Yes,” says Lem, “But it’s… it’s so quiet here. Especially after the Archives. Things were, uh, very loud there. Towards the end.”

 

Hella expression softens. “Here, too.”

 

Lem nods. He shifts from foot to foot, his gaze flicking around the room-- the cracked ceiling, the ornately framed mirror above the fireplace, the polished cabinet, Hella’s sword, its hilt gleaming the the firelight, the bed, the sheets of one side rumpled.

 

“It’s been strange seeing you here,” says Hella.

 

“It’s been strange  _ being _ here,” says Lem, “this place is  _ very _ odd.”

 

Hella huffs a laugh. “Yes. But I meant more like… you arriving unexpectedly. And without Fero.” She cocks her head to one side. “I think before this I could have counted on one hand the times I’d seen either of you in a room without the other.”

 

Lem swallows hard, trying to keep his expression neutral. He’s not entirely sure what expression his face is trying to make, anyway. 

 

“Yes, well,” says Lem, “there’ll be a lot more times you’ll see me on my own now, since Fero is… back at the Archives. I think.”

 

Hella blinks. “You  _ think _ ?”

 

“Well it was all very confusing there for a moment,” says Lem, “It’s, um--”

 

Memories swim to the surface of his thoughts-- trying to fulfil the pattern, flooding the quarry, Fero, seemingly dead on the ground, Fero, alive and so  _ unbelievably  _ angry with him, the mirror shattered, being pulled away, feeling unmade before popping into existence again in a garden. Lem feels as though the air is being sucked out of the room, he can’t seemed to pull enough into his lungs.

 

He flinches when Hella puts her hands on his shoulders. He hadn’t even noticed Hella stepping towards him.

 

“Lem,” says Hella, her tone carefully even, “sit down.”

 

Lem manages to nod, letting himself be guided to sit down on the bed. He grips the edge of the mattress, feeling light-headed. The mattress sinks as Hella sits down beside him, keeping a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Should I get…?” Hella trails off. “Adaire was a doctor for a while, sort of.”

 

“No,” rasps Lem, “No, I’m fine, I just need a moment.”

 

“Okay,” says Hella. 

 

She keeps her hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. Lem focuses on the feel of it, the gentle pressure, the warmth seeping through his nightshirt. His breathing evens out slowly. He swallows hard. His throat hurts a little.

 

Hella lets go of him, resting hand on the bed in-between them. “Better?”

 

Lem nods again. “Sorry, I-- just a lot on my mind at the moment I suppose. What were we talking about?”

 

Hella pauses for a moment. “Fero.”

 

Lem’s breath hitches in his throat. “Right. Right. Yes. He’s fine. Well, not fine, I suppose. No one is, in these times, are they? He was… he seemed very angry at me. Before I left. But I’m sure he’ll… I’m sure he’s fine. Ephrim’s with him, and Throndir too, I suppose.”

 

Hella hums in agreement.

 

Lem huffs a breath. “Sorry. I’m sure you don’t-- I just… I couldn’t sleep. And I wasn’t sure where else to go.”

 

“It’s fine,” says Hella.

 

Lem looks down. The house is so quiet. Somewhere, a clock chimes faintly, the bells melding into each other a making it impossible for Lem to tell the hour. He's not sure how time works here, wherever  _ here  _ is. It feels late. 

 

“Things have been a bit like that here, too,” says Hella, “Hadrian and I… I mean, it’s fine  _ now _ , but I feel like…” Hella sighs, her shoulder slumping. “I don’t know. Something’s happening, or it’s  _ about  _ to happen, and I don’t know how to  _ fix _ it.”

 

Lem shifts on the bed, his hand brushing Hella’s. Hella twitches but doesn't move her hand. Slowly, slowly, Lem covers her hand with his. Hella looks up at him, bringing her hand up to lightly touch the bruise on Lem's cheek. Lem inhales sharply.

 

“Sorry,” says Hella, fingers curling back, “didn't mean to hurt you.”

 

“You didn't,” says Lem, “It's fine really, I-- just wasn't expecting-- it's fine. You… you don't have to stop.”

 

Hella slowly reaches out again, sliding her hand along his jaw to cup his cheek. Lem can feel himself trembling under her touch. Hella bites her lip. 

 

“Must have been quite a hit,” says Hella. 

 

Her fingers brush his hairline, still damp from the quarry. Lem closes his eyes for a moment, letting himself relax under her warm touch. 

 

“It's been a  _ very _ long day,” says Lem. 

 

Hella hums. “I know the kind.”

 

Lem leans towards her almost without meaning to, his body gravitating towards the warmth of her hand. He flicks his eyes up at Hella. As she looks at him her hand slides into his hair, carding through his tangled waves. Lem sighs.

 

Hella leans forward, and Lem meets her halfway. Her lips are warm, and a little chapped. Lem lets everything outside of the moment slip away, until Hella is the only thing in existence. 

 

Lem turns his body more towards her, resting one hand gently on her side, sliding it back and forth over the soft material of her shirt. Hella cradles the back of his head, changing the angle to deepen the kiss. Lem melts against her, sliding his other hand up her back to press her against him. 

 

Hella makes a pleased noise into his mouth, pushing aside his shoulder and pressing forward until Lem is lying flat against the bed, Hella leaning over him. 

 

Hella pulls back slightly. “Okay?”

 

Lem blinks up at her, feeling a little dazed. “Oh. Yes.”

 

He reaches up and tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Hella smiles, and leans down to kiss him again, pressing him into the mattress. It feels soft and warm under him, and Lem feels the muscles in his back uncoil, sighing as Hella presses herself against him. 

 

Hella hums. “Might be easier if you were further up the bed?”

 

“Oh?” says Lem. His feet are still on the floor. He feels himself blush. “Oh! Right.”

 

Hella laughs, a bright sound in the dark. Lem smiles, following Hella's hands as she pushes at his shoulders, guiding him further back on the bed until his head hits the pillows. He reaches for her, his hands ghosting over her sides. 

 

Hella straddles him, and Lem's eyes go wide. She stills, her hands resting lightly on his stomach. 

 

“Too much?”

 

“No,” says Lem, taking a shuddering breath, “no, it's fine, I just--”

 

He breaks off with a gasp as Hella rocks against him. 

 

“Uh huh,” says Hella. He can hear the grin in her voice. 

 

Lem huffs a laugh. “Well. You're very-- you know? So it's, um…”

 

It's increasingly difficult to keep his train of thought steady. 

 

“I'm very…?” says Hella, teasingly. 

 

“Beautiful,” says Lem. 

 

Hella stills again.

 

Lem’s hands flutter in her sides. “Sorry, I mean, um, strong? Or um,” he tries to think of other descriptors he's heard people use for Hella. “Tall?”

 

“No, it's... um,” Hella swallows. “That's a new one, that's all.”

 

Something  _ aches  _ sharply in Lem's chest. 

 

“Oh,” says Lem softly. He runs his hands up and down her sides. “I-- you are. Beautiful, that is, I--”

 

Hella leans down, pressing him back into the pillows with the force of her kiss. He runs his hands lightly along her sides, up and down her back. She runs her hands underneath his sleep shirt, and Lem gasps into her mouth. 

 

She ducks her head to trail a line of kisses down his neck. Lem presses his head back, giving her better access. He bites his lip, trying to muffle a moan. 

 

Hella tugs at his shirt and Lem lifts himself up slightly so that she can pull it up and off. The night air is cool on his skin, quickly warmed again as Hella presses him back down, her body blanketing his. 

 

Lem slips his thigh in-between her's and Hella sighs, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she rolls her hips against him. Lem’s hands find their way under her sleep shirt, and he runs his hands lightly up and down the bare skin of her back, feeling the rough skin of old scars under his fingertips. 

 

Hella's hand trails down his body to palm at him through his pants and Lem groans, arching up into her touch. Hella hums against his neck, shifting the straddle him again, grinding down onto him through the fabric. Lem groans again, louder, and Hella puts her fingers to his lips. 

 

“You'll wake the others,” says Hella softly. 

 

“Right,” says Lem breathlessly. 

 

His lips brush against Hella fingers as he speaks, and he hears her breath catch in her throat. Lem presses a soft kiss to her fingertips, to her palm, to the inside of her wrist. Hella tears her hand away from him, quickly replacing it with her lips. 

 

She pulls back for a moment to pull off her own sleep shirt, tossing it behind her. Lem keeps his hands skirting the skin of her waist, and Hella makes an amused noise, taking his hands and placing them on her breasts. Lem runs his thumbs over her nipples and she arches into his touch, rolling her hips against his. 

 

Hella runs her hands down his arms, lightly touching over his chest to run her fingertips along the waistband of his pants. Lem shudders, sucking in a sudden breath. 

 

She bends to kiss him again, softly this time. Lem sighs. Hella draws back slightly, their faces inches apart as she hooks two fingers into the waistband of his pants, tugging them down to free his erection. Lem's gasp at the cool air quickly trails into a high whine and Hella runs a hand over him. 

 

He leans up to kiss her. Hella runs her hand along his braid, cradling the back of his head. She lifts her hips and Lem breaks off the kiss in time to see her hand disappear into her sleep pants. 

 

Lem inhales sharply. “Oh. Can I-- please--”

 

In response, Hella removes her hand, taking his hand by the wrist and guiding him towards her. Lem bites his lip as he runs a finger along her entrance, feeling the muscles in Hella’s thighs jump. Hella moans softly as he presses a finger into her, marveling at the wet heat of her. Lem gives her a moment to adjust before he slides in a second finger. Hella rolls her hips, fucking herself onto his fingers. Lem takes a shuddering breath, watching her.

 

Hella tugs her sleep pants down, giving him better access. One of her hands slides up her chest, teasing a nipple between her fingers, and the other comes down to join his hand between her thighs. He can feel her muscles flutter around his fingers as she circles her clit, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she attempts to muffle a soft cry.

 

As she thrusts against him, her leg teases against him, almost brushing against his cock. He can feel the faint heat of her, the whisper of fabric, against him. It’s  _ unbearable _ , and he desperately wants to take himself in hand and relieve the hot ache building in him, but doing so would mean taking his hands off Hella and that would be… unimaginable. Lem swallows a groan, taking a shaky breath to refocus on his task.

 

Hella’s thighs tremble, her movements going further out of rhythm the closer she gets to the edge. She drops down, her hands falling either side of Lem’s head as she kisses him, wet and open. She’s pressed against him, a sudden friction against his aching cock. Lem groans, trying to restrain himself from arching up against her.

 

“ _ Lem _ ,” says Hella, on a shuddering breath.

 

He tries to copy the motion she’d done earlier, clumsily thumbing her clit as his fingers curl inside of her. Hella moans into his mouth, bucking against his hand, her fingers twisting the sheets either side of his head. He can feel her clamp down around his fingers, her body shuddering against his as she comes.

 

Lem slowly runs his hand up and down her back as she returns to herself, helping her wriggle the rest of the way out of her sleep pants. Hella presses a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw, and Lem can feel her smile against his skin. He kisses the top of her head.

 

Hella’s hand trails lightly down his chest, making a lazy path down towards his erection. Lem swallows hard, clutching at the bedsheets in anticipation before she’s even touched him. When she does, he has to turn his head to the side to muffle his moan in the pillow.

 

Hella tilts his face back towards her with her free hand, pumping him slowly as she leans down to kiss him again. Lem switches between running his hands along the muscled planes of her back and clutching helplessly at the sheets as Hella takes him apart. Hella speeds up her motions and Lem cries out, his hips thrusting up into her hand.

 

Hella smoothes her free hand up and down his chest, grounding him even as she’s lighting him on fire. She brushes her thumb over the head of his cock and Lem  _ whimpers _ , his whole body arching into her touch. Hella leans up and over him, kissing him deeply as she presses their bodies close.

 

One of her hands runs soothingly over his collarbone while the other pumps him mercilessly. She presses a single quick kiss to his lips, her teeth grazing his bottom lip.

 

Lem comes with a soft cry, arching against her before his body slumps down onto the soft sheets. Hella rests her sticky hand on his stomach, kissing him slowly as he comes back to himself. It doesn’t have the heat that they had a moment ago, but there’s still something warm about it, something like a banked fire or a cooling stove. A comforting heat. Lem sighs.

 

Hella leans over the side of the bed, wiping them off with a cloth.

 

“I use it for sword cleaning,” says Hella.

 

“Oh,” says Lem.

 

“I guess I still am using it for sword cleaning,” she adds, grinning at him.

 

Ridiculously, Lem feels himself blush. Hella huffs a laugh, moving to lie back down next to him. She rests a hand lightly on his chest, watching it move up and down with his breaths for a moment.

 

Lem swallows. “Do you think Samol would mind if I slept here? He did say we could pick our own rooms, but, um…”

 

Hella smiles at him, reaching out to brush a tendril of hair away from his face. “He did say that.”

 

“Oh, good,” says Lem, feeling his body relax back against the bed.

 

Hella’s arms slide around him easily, pulling him close to her and tangling their legs together. Her breath feels warm and alive against the back of his neck.

 

Lem closes his eyes and finally,  _ finally _ , he sleeps. 


	4. Linger In Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to Finn, for looking this over, and to Sophie, for being my amazing beta as always.

Fero’s dreaming. He can tell he’s dreaming, because he’s sitting on a couch in a nice warm room instead of being huddled inside the hollow of a yew tree halfway to the Erasure. He can tell it’s a dream, because the room is Lem’s room, or at least, it’s Lem’s room how it  _ used _ to look before he left the Archives. Dusty, with deliberately-placed trinkets scattered along the shelves and the plain sheets of his unmade bed half-falling onto the floor.

 

The only thing out of place is the couch Fero is sitting on. It’s old, much older than anything else in the room, the green velvet fabric of it has been worn rough in some places and there are small knicks scattered across the polished wood of the hand rests. Fero kicks his feet back and forth, his toes brushing against the cold stone floor as he lets his gaze travel around the room, careful not to look too closely at anything for too long. He knows everything in this room by heart anyway.

 

There’s a noise behind the closed door, drawing Fero’s eye. It’s a sudden noise but not a startling one-- there were always people going past Lem’s door at all hours. He wonders if the whole of the Archives would be there if he opened the door, or if his dream is restricted to the one room. Not that he’d want to explore it anyway, he never had much interest in the Archives, the only reason he’d ever gone there was to see--

 

The door is pushed open, and it’s Lem, standing in the doorway looking as bewildered to see Fero as Fero is to see him.

 

Fero’s surprise fades almost immediately, and he glares. He doesn’t feel any less angry at Lem now than he did months ago, his hands clenching into fists at the sight of him. His neck’s healed now, but the stretch of it that had been bruised the last time they saw each other  _ throbs _ with remembered pain.

 

Lem smiles at him, almost shy. “Oh, Fero, hi.”

 

Lem’s smile is surprised and pleased. It’s the same sort of smile that he used to give Fero whenever Fero would drop by while he was studying, or when Fero would accompany him as he trailed around the woods to finish up some pattern or other. Seeing it is like a wave breaking over him, washing away the fire of anger, leaving him feeling tired and wrung out. Fero has missed that look so much that, for a moment, he forgets that this is only a dream.

 

“Oh good,” says a tired-sounding voice from behind Lem, “you’re already here.”

 

Fero leans forward a little to see around Lem. There’s an older, exhausted-looking man. Part of his shoulder hovers in the air beside him in a way that looks more odd than painful. He pushes Lem forward a little into the room.

 

Lem frowns. “Wait--”

 

“No waitin’,” says Samol, “I’ve seen enough of two people waitin’ to talk to each other for several lifetimes. Literally.”

 

“I don’t know what this is supposed to accomplish,” says Lem.

 

“Hey,” says Fero, “I’m  _ right here _ .”

 

“What, exactly, is arguing with Fero in my dream supposed to fix?” continues Lem, as though Fero hadn’t spoken and ah, there’s that itch of irritation back again.

 

“ _ Excuse _ me?” says Fero, “ _ You’re _ in  _ my _ dream.”

 

Lem turns to frown at Fero. “No, you-- hey! Wait!”

 

Samol steps back out of the room. “You asked for my help to sort things out. This is me helping you do that. Sort. Your shit. Out.”

 

The door makes a heavy, metallic sound as it shuts, the lock of it settling into place. Lem huffs a breath, muttering to himself as he paces a loop around the small room. Fero watches him for a few circuits.

 

“Lem,” says Fero, “Can you stop? You’re giving me a headache.”

 

“I can’t give you a headache,” says Lem, “You’re not really here. Neither am I, I suppose, but since you are a figment of my dream, I don’t think you can get a headache.”

 

“I can so,” says Fero, “I’m getting one from you right now.”

 

Lem makes an annoyed sound, flopping onto the couch beside Fero.

 

He sighs. “What a weird dream.”

 

“Yeah,” says Fero, “I mean, I never dream about the Archives.”

 

“What do you normally dream about?”

 

“Nothing.” Fero pauses. “Mother Glory, sometimes.”

 

Lem blinks at him. “Oh. That's not what I would have thought.”

 

“Yeah, well,” says Fero, “You never asked.”

 

Lem tilts his head to one side. “I guess on some level I did think that, because otherwise you wouldn’t have said it just now. Dreams can’t produce things from nowhere.”

 

“I’m not part of your dream,” says Fero, “you’re part of  _ my _ dream.”

 

“ _ No _ , you’re part of  _ my _ dream. Although. I suppose if you were part of my dream then wouldn't you  _ say _ that you were,” says Lem. He pauses. “And if  _ I _ was part of  _ your  _ dream that's probably the sort of argument I’d make too.”

 

It's such an absolutely  _ Lem _ thing to say that Fero laughs, loud and surprising himself with it. Lem smiles, looking warmer around the edges. Fero hasn't seen that look directed at him from Lem for a long time, and he feels a sharp ache in his chest. 

 

Fero's laughter fades, and he drops his gaze down to where his hands are folded in his lap. “I miss you.”

 

His voice sounds very small. Lem stills beside him, his hands fluttering down into his own lap. Fero can feel Lem's eyes on him, but he can't make himself look up. 

 

Fero swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut. “Even if this  _ is  _ just a dumb, weird dream, I-- it's good to see you, you know. Hang out like we used to. I missed that.” He huffs a laugh. “No one else seems to have the patience for me that you did.”

 

Lem leans towards him, bumping their shoulders together. “I'm sure that's not true.”

 

“It kind of is though,” says Fero. It's just a dream, no ramifications, so why not be honest. “You left, but at least you used to  _ pretend  _ to hear me out before you did what you wanted.”

 

“They left you?” says Lem. 

 

Fero nods, not looking up. “Well. I left them too, I guess. They wanted to go to the university, I wanted to go to the Erasure. So.”

 

“By yourself?” says Lem, incredulous. 

 

“Of course by myself,” says Fero, “who else is there?”

 

“There's me,” says Lem, after a moment. 

 

“Not anymore,” says Fero, “You're off… wherever you are, wherever they sent you. How's that any different to how it was at the Archives when you left?”

 

“I-- it's--” Lem gestures for a moment before his shoulders droop down. “Fero. I'm sorry.”

 

Fero looks up at that, the crackle of irritation fading away in the face of Lem's wide eyes. Gods, he was always such a sucker for that face from the moment they'd met. 

 

Fero tries to give Lem his best impression of a smile, patting Lem's thigh. “Hey. Don't worry about it. I took care of myself for a long time before I met you.”

 

“I know you did, but this is different, the Erasure is-- I mean, you saw what happened to Hadrian,” says Lem, “I  _ am  _ worried about it. I'm worried about  _ you _ .”

 

“You never seemed worried about me before,” says Fero. 

 

“But I was always  _ there  _ before,” says Lem, “I should be there, not--”

 

Even in the dim light, Fero can see the flush on Lem's cheeks. His annoyance fades away into amusement. He ducks his head to hide his own complicated expression. Now that he's looking down, he notices how close they've moved next to each other, thighs almost touching. Fero's hand is still resting, deceptively casual, on Lem's thigh. Fero feels himself blush. 

 

“Fero?” says Lem. 

 

Lem puts a hand on Fero's shoulder and Fero looks up and, oh, they  _ are _ very close. Fero feels his breath catch in his throat, his gaze flicking down to Lem's lips before he can force them away to meet Lem's eyes. 

 

Normally when this sort of thing happened, Fero would pull back, made the kind of joke that would get under Lem's skin enough to distract them both until the urge to lean into Lem was out of his mind. But the world is ending, and this is a dream. It seems like the right circumstance to give into his impulses. 

 

Fero knows it’s a dream, because when he leans in, Lem leans in too, cupping Fero's cheek in his hand. Fero sighs, letting his eyes flutter closed, letting the heat of Lem's palm sink into his skin. 

 

“I missed you,” he says again. 

 

“I… I missed you too,” says Lem. “I keep thinking you're right there, and sometimes I almost say something to you and then--” Lem’s voice wavers. 

 

Fero covers Lem's hand with his own, slotting their fingers together. “Hey. I'm here now.”

 

Lem leans forward, bending to press his forehead to Fero's. Fero’s heart is beating so loud,  _ surely  _ Lem must be able to hear it. He can feel a puff of air as Lem exhales. Lem's gaze flicks up, looking directly into his eyes, and Fero's breath catches in his throat.

 

Lem tilts his head, leaning closer, and Fero understands his meaning. He was always good at this when they were together, picking up Lem's meanings from his tiny gestures. His lips meet Lem’s soft, warm lips and cool, smooth tusks. Fero sighs and Lem opens under him, letting Fero deepen the kiss as much as he likes. 

 

He does, shifting on the couch to pull Lem closer, slipping his hands under Lem's shirt. Lem gasps, sliding his arm around Fero's waist and pulling Fero up onto his lap. Fero is more than happy to let himself be pulled. He can feel Lem hardening under him, grinning at the small sounds he can coax out of Lem with every shift of his hips. 

 

Lem clutches at his sides, his fingers digging into Fero's skin. Fero wonders if you can get bruises from dreams, grinding down onto Lem at the thought. Lem gasps, bucking up against him. 

 

Fero pulls at the hem of Lem's shirt. It's nothing he hasn't seen before-- they travelled together for a long time after all, and then there'd been  _ that  _ carriage ride out of Nacre-- but this is the first time he's been allowed to take the time to  _ touch,  _ to let his hands and tongue roam over Lem's skin freely. Lem bends over him as Fero clutches at Lem's shoulder, holding Lem steady while his sucks a line of bruises up Lem's neck. 

 

He rubs shamelessly against Lem, letting the fabric between them add to the friction and the building heat in his gut. Lem whines, high in his throat, tipping his head back against the back of the couch. Fero stretches, pressing his fingertips to Lem’s chin to get him to tilt his head down so Fero can kiss him again. 

 

Lem's hands clutch at the bottom of Fero's shirt. Fero taps at Lem's knuckles so that Lem releases the fabric, then whips his shirt up and off. Lem's hands trail lightly over Fero's sides, ghosting over his breasts. Fero arches into Lem’s touch, biting his lip to muffle a whine and letting his head loll back as Lem rolls Fero's nipples between his large fingers. Lem ducks his head, mouthing at Fero's breasts, and Fero gasps at the sensation, clutching at Lem's shoulders, Lem’s name a choked gasp on his lips. 

 

Lem looks up at Fero through his lashes, his tongue teasing at Fero's nipple. Fero moans, rutting his hips against Lem. Lem gasps, surging up to kiss Fero, his hand sliding to cup the back of Fero's head. 

 

Fero's hands go to Lem's hips, and he tries to wriggle his hands in-between the fabric to touch more of Lem’s skin. 

 

“Oh,” says Lem, “let me--”

 

He lets go of Fero briefly, undoing the clips and buckles of his Archivist pants and lifting his hips to pull them down, freeing his erection. 

 

Again, Fero has caught a few glimpses of Lem in the years they've travelled together, but he reveals in being able to  _ touch.  _ He runs both of his hands over Lem’s length and Lem moans, his hands fluttering in the air before landing on the couch beside him, clutching at the cushions. 

 

“Fero,  _ please _ .”

 

Fero hums, keeping the pace of his hands slow. Lem’s thighs tremble under Fero, his hands flexing on the couch cushions. Lem lets out a small, breathy moan on each exhale, and the sound of it goes straight between Fero’s legs. He shifts, his hips rolling against Lem’s thigh, seeking friction.

 

Lem looks down at him, his hands sliding along Fero’s thighs and up his sides. Fero shivers, feeling his face heat under Lem’s close gaze. Lem’s hands slide back down, trailing along the waistband of Fero’s pants. Fero bites his lip, muffling a gasp.

 

“Oh,” says Lem, his eyes widening, “Do you… can I…?”

 

Fero nods quickly, sliding off Lem’s lap and fumbling with the fastenings of his breeches. He takes a breath, shoving them down his hips quickly and stepping out of them, almost tripping as he tangles himself in the fabric in his haste. Lem reaches out to put a hand on Fero’s hip to steady him. His hands feel larger, his skin warmer, without the fabric in the way. The heat of them travels to become a throb between Fero’s legs.

 

Fero looks up at Lem from under his lashes, sucking his bottom lip in. Lem pulls slightly at his hip, a light pressure, guiding Fero back up onto his lap. Fero stretches so that his legs are bracketing Lem’s, a quiet moan escaping him as he feels the wetness on his thighs smear onto Lem’s skin.

 

Lem’s hands rub over Fero’s thighs. Fero gasps, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. Lem stills.

 

“Fero?” says Lem hesitantly, “Are you-- is this okay?”

 

Fero nods, once, quick. He swallows hard, trying to speak around the ache in his throat. 

 

“It’s-- When we travelled together, I always wanted--” Fero swallows again. “I need a minute?”

 

Lem nods. His hands stay steady and warm on Fero’s thighs, and Fero feels his muscles slowly uncoil. He leans forward, resting his head against Lem’s chest. He can hear Lem’s heartbeat in his chest, fast but even. 

 

“I wish we could have really done this,” says Fero softly.

 

“We can, um, do it now?” says Lem.

 

“Yeah, but,” Fero sighs, “You know what I mean.”

 

“Yes,” says Lem, “I do.”

 

Lem presses a kiss to the top of Fero’s head. Fero tilts his head up to look at Lem, letting his eyes map out Lem’s flushed cheeks, the slope of his nose, the curve of his eyelashes against his cheek. It's a face he knows very well, and one he has, despite everything, sorely missed in the past months. 

 

He pushes himself up slightly, pressing a soft kiss to Lem’s lips. Lem sighs against him, letting Fero deepen the kiss. He can feel the heat pulsing through him again, building slowly. He rolls his hips against Lem and Lem gasps. 

 

Fero slides a hand down between them, tracing a finger along Lem’s length. Lem whines, shuddering as he grabs at Fero’s hips.

 

“ _ Fero _ ,” says Lem.

 

Fero kisses Lem again, biting at Lem’s lower lip as his lowers himself onto Lem’s cock. It’s slow-going, working himself down onto Lem. Lem grabs at the cushions behind his head, body trembling with the effort of not arching up into Fero. After he’s taken half of Lem, Fero draws back up and Lem whines, fingers twisting in the fabric.

 

“I know,” says Fero breathily, “but you’re really big, okay? Just give me like a  _ second _ .”

 

Lem groans, and Fero grins.

 

“Oh, you like that huh?” says Fero, “You like hearing about how you’re  _ so big _ and you’re filling me up  _ so well _ .” He sinks down a little more, moaning a string of curses. “Gods,  _ Lem _ .”

 

Lem groans again, his hands tangling in Fero’s hair to pull Fero towards him into a kiss. Fero gasps, torn between leaning further up towards Lem’s lips and fucking himself down further onto Lem’s cock. He settles on both, cradling the back of Lem’s head and pulling Lem’s face downward as he sinks back down onto Lem.

 

Lem moans into his mouth, his fingers digging into Fero's hips. Fero tightens the hand in Lem's hair, the other resting on Lem's shoulder, using it as support as he sinks as far onto Lem as he's able to. Fero gives himself a moment to adjust, feeling the stretch of Lem thick inside him. He rests his forehead against Lem's, and Lem presses a light kiss to his lips, oddly chaste for their current positions. 

 

Fero raises himself up, his legs trembling slightly as he sinks back down onto Lem, faster this time. He and Lem both groan. Lem ducks his head to kiss a trail along Fero's neck, sucking bruises along his collarbone. Fero gasps at the sensation of Lem's cool tusks pressing against his overheated skin. He tugs at Lem's hair, pulling Lem back up to kiss him as he speeds up the movement of his hips. 

 

One of Lem's hands slides between them, pressing against Fero's opening. Fero reaches between them, guiding his hand.

 

“Here,” Fero manages. 

 

Lem hums, leaning in to kiss Fero again as he circles Fero's clit. Fero's hips jolt, falling out of his rhythm as his fingers tighten in Lem's hair. 

 

“Oh,” says Fero breathlessly, “Oh, Lem, that's--  _ yes _ \--”

 

He babbles, fragments of words cut off by gasps as he rides Lem hard and fast. Lem's hand never wavers, switching between circling and stroking Fero's clit. Fero kisses him, revelling of the messiness of it, the small, desperate sounds Lem is making into his mouth, the way Lem gasps as Fero's muscles flutter around him. 

 

Fero speeds up the motion of his hips, his hand gripping Lem's shoulder tight as the feeling builds in deep in his gut. He comes with a choked off moan, riding Lem through the aftershocks. Lem follows him over the edge, his body trembling under Fero. 

 

He collapses against Lem, stroking clumsy fingers along Lem's collarbone, up his neck, along his cheek. Lem slides an arm around Fero's waist, leaning them both back against the couch. Fero leans up slightly to kiss Lem, gasping a little at the sensation of Lem’s softening cock sliding out of him. Lem strokes a lazy hand up and down his back as they kiss. 

 

Lem takes a steadying breath when they pull apart. Fero takes stock of him again, the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the tendrils of hair that have been pulled out of his braid by Fero's eager hands, the dark green hickies dotted along his neck. 

 

Fero traces one with his finger. “Um. Sorry for getting a little carried away.”

 

Lem smiles down at him. He brings his hand up, running a finger along Fero's neck. 

 

“I think I got you back just as good.”

 

Fero hums, resting his head against Lem's chest. They stay like that for a long moment, curled into the warmth of each other. 

 

There's a sharp knock at the door, and they both turn towards it. 

 

“Time to wake up,” says Samol’s voice, muffled by the door. 

 

Lem's eyes go wide. “Oh. No. Wait--”

 

Fero curls a hand around Lem's arm. “Yeah, no thanks.”

 

“Wasn't an offer,” says Samol.

 

There's a cold, rushing feeling, like falling, and Fero's eyes snap open. The moonlight is shining weakly onto his eyes through a gap in the tree branches and he grimaces. He stretches, taking stock in his body, making a face at the damp feeling in his pants, the ache in his thighs. 

 

He heads to a nearby stream, cursing dreams and their various effects. As he crouches by the smooth surface of the river, he notices a mark on his neck and he pulls at his shirt, gasping at his reflection.

 

A line of bruises, with the odd but very distinctive scratching of tusks around them, litter Fero's neck. He runs his hand over them, barely believing his eyes. 

 

“Oh,” says Fero to himself. 

 

He and Lem are going to have a very interesting conversation the next time they see each other.


	5. A Tavern at the End of the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to Finn, for looking this over, and to Sophie, for being my amazing beta as always.
> 
> and thank you so much to everyone who commented, left kudos, or tweeted me abt this fic, you guys are so wonderful

The Topgallant slowly empties over the course of the night, people trickling out in groups or pairs, some heading upstairs to their rooms. Despite the long journey ahead, their group dawdles, sitting in silence long after last call.

 

Hella draws out her final drink until eventually, it's just Fero and Lem at the table with her. Lem keeps avoiding Fero's eye, blushing whenever Hella or Fero catches him looking in their direction. She thinks he probably doesn't notice Fero's own flushed cheeks, nor hers. When she catches Fero's eyes the pink of his cheeks deepens and he takes a long pull of his drink.

 

Fero clears his throat a few times. “So.”

 

“I suppose I should head to bed as well,” says Lem, standing up abruptly. His chair scrapes along the floor, a harsh sound in the now-quiet room.

 

“Did you book a room?” says Hella.

 

“Oh,” says Lem. He bites his lip, and sits back down, running a hand through his hair. “I um… no.”

 

She looks at Fero. “Did you?”

 

Fero shakes his head. Now it's him who's avoiding Lem's eyes, staring across the room even as his body turns more towards Lem's.

 

Hella taps her fingers on the table, three times. “I have a room.”

 

She's very carefully not looking at either of them, instead focused on the point of the wall in between them. In her peripheral vision she can see Fero bite his lip and look to Lem.

 

“I, um,” says Lem.

 

“Do you--” says Fero at the same moment.

 

They both stutter to a stop, looking at each other quickly and then away. The pink flush of Fero's cheek has spread down his neck. Hella's fingers twitch, thinking about the last time she saw him flush that colour, about tracing it down Fero's chest. Lem bites his lip, and Hella resists the urge to reach out and smoothe the bitten skin with her thumb. Looking at them she can almost feel the rocking carriage under her feet again.

 

“Well?” says Hella.

 

“I mean, if you're offering,” says Fero, cocky tone faltering as his voice cracks.

 

“I am,” says Hella, voice much steadier than she feels, her toes curling and uncurling in her boots.

 

“Well,” says Fero, “I mean, it would be dumb to turn down a free room.”

 

Hella raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Or the good company,” adds Fero quickly.

 

Hella snorts. She stands, and the other two scramble to copy her motion, following her upstairs. She doesn't look back, but their presence itches at the back of her neck as she climbs the three flights to her room.

 

The fire is already lit when she opens the door, sheets turned back like an invitation. She doesn't remember the bed being quite so large when she was last in the room.

 

 _Temple of Severea,_ thinks Hella wryly.

 

They both pause in the doorway until she ushers them in with a wave of her hand. She turns to shut the door and when she faces them again they're still watching her. Fero's hands are wedged deep in his pockets, his shoulders tense, and Lem is twisting the end of his braid nervously.

 

Hella lets out a long breath. “This is a long way for you to go for a free bed. I know you both have the coin to rent your own rooms.”

 

Fero's eyes slide to Lem. He looks expectant, as though he's waiting for Lem to speak first. Lem looks focused on the end of his braid and his fingers twist the cool of hair tighter and tighter.

 

Hella puts a hand over Lem's, making him start.

 

“Lem,” she says quietly, “a yes for one night does not have to mean a yes every night. If you'd rather have your own room--”

 

“It's not that--” begins Lem. His gaze, finally, goes to Fero.

 

“Oh, so it's _my_ fault,” says Fero, picking up anger from an argument already long in progress, “like I can control what happens in a dream.”

 

“So you _were_ there!” says Lem, with the tone of someone laying down a trump card.

 

“Of course I was!” says Fero, throwing his hands in the air.

 

“Then why did you need me to apologise a second time?”

 

“Because I wasn't sure if _you_ were there,” says Fero.

 

“Do you _normally_ have dreams where we… ?”

 

Some of the fight goes out of Fero, and this time the flap of his hands seems more flustered than annoyed. “None of your business.”

 

“If I'm being pulled into your dreams then I think it is,” says Lem.

 

“First of all, _I_ was the one being pulled into _your_ dream,” begins Fero.

 

Hella can tell he's gearing up for this to be a long fight, and Lem is too. She might not have travelled with them as long as she has with Hadrian but she saw enough of the signs on the way to Nacre. She sighs, loudly enough to pull them both off track.

 

“If that's how you're both feeling, then I'm going to turn in by myself.”

 

She can hear them both start to protest, Fero pointing a finger at Lem and Lem's sputtered response. The sound dies as she steps between them both towards the bed, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it to the floor. The motion of it helps distract her from how her hands are shaking.

 

She looks back over her shoulder at them, her hands resting on her swordbelt.

 

“I um, I had this weird dream you see--”

 

“ _Weird_?” says Fero.

 

“Is strange acceptable?” Fero nods and Lem continues. “I--”

 

“Uh, _we_.“

 

Lem rolls his eyes. “ _We_ had this odd dream, a little while ago, where we, uh… “

 

“I think I can guess,” says Hella.

 

She doesn't turn around. She reaches up to undo her hair, suppressing a smirk at Fero sharp inhale. The coils of her hair unravel, just brushing against her shoulders.

 

“Why, exactly, is a pleasant dream cause for disagreement?” says Hella, “Unless, of course, it wasn't a pleasant dream.”

 

“No, it definitely was,” says Lem quickly.

 

Fero blinks, his focus snapping back to Lem. “Oh, I thought-- I mean, you didn't want to talk about it--”

 

“Because _you_ didn't seem to want to talk about it,” says Lem.

 

“Oh,” says Fero.

 

Tentatively, Fero reaches out and touches the inside of Lem's wrist. Lem's breath hitches in his throat and he turns his palm, tangling their fingers together. A smile blooms over Fero's face, relief and joy, and the tension in the room dissipates.

 

Hella rolls her shoulders, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back on on her palms. The small squeak of the bed draws their attention and they both turn to look at her. Hella raises her eyebrows at them, flexing her hands a little on the sheets.

 

Lem blushes a deep green. It looks just as pretty on him as she remembers.

 

Fero steps forward, pulling Lem behind him and he steps closer to the bed. Hella leans forward a little, and Lem extends his hand. Without really thinking about it, she slips one of her hands into his.

 

Lem looks down. “Oh.”

 

Hella feels her face heat up, biting her lip. Fero reaches out and takes her free hand in his, closing their small circle. His thumb rubs along the back of her hand.

 

“So, uh…” says Fero.

 

Hella takes a deep breath. “So.”

 

She leans forward to kiss Fero first, since his head is closer to hers. His whole body leans towards her as though it's being pulled towards her by an unseen force.

 

He doesn't stop holding her hand though, or Lem's, and she and Lem don't let go either. Lem stays standing, still holding both of their hands, the fabric of his pants barely brushing against her leg as he watches them. She can hear Lem's sharp inhale as her and Fero's lips meet.

 

She pulls back slightly from Fero, resting her forehead against his for a moment before looking up at Lem. Fero steps closer, pressing the length of his body against her side, his head tucked against the crook of her neck. She lets go of his hand to slip her arm around his side. Fero does the same, his palm hot against her skin as he presses as light kiss to her collarbone. He makes a pleased sound against her skin and Hella smiles down at him.

 

She tugs slightly on Lem's hand and he sits down next to her, his arm stretched a little awkwardly across her to keep ahold of Fero’s hand. He runs his tongue along his tusks nervously, and her eyes track the movement. Hella tugs on Lem's hand again and he leans forward, the touch of his lips almost tentative.

 

She can feel Fero wriggle against her side, moving so he can look up at them. He places his small hand on top of their intertwined ones, and Hella smiles against Lem's lips. She runs her tongue along Lem's lips and he opens under her, his hand tightening in her own as he gasps.

 

Hella pulls Fero closer, and she can feel his hips shift against her, a small, unconscious motion. She pulls back slightly from Lem, looking down at Fero. Lem follows her gaze.

 

“Seems a little uneven that the two of you have only done this together in dreams,” says Hella.

 

“Well, there was Nacre, so-- oh,” says Lem.

 

Hella presses her lips together to muffle a laugh.

 

Lem bends, leaning around Hella to kiss Fero. Fero reaches up, his hand curling around Lem's shirt collar to pull Lem closer. Hella can hear Lem's muffled gasp, his hand flexing in her's. Hella watches them for a moment, letting the gathering heat of the sight pool between her thighs.

 

Lem slips a little on the bed and they break off from each other, panting.

 

“Here--”

 

Hella shifts her grip on Fero's side, pulling him up into her lap.

 

“Oh, that's better,” says Fero brightly, and leans in to kiss her.

 

Hella cards a hand through his hair, tilting his head so she can deepen the kiss. Fero makes a soft sound into her mouth, an almost-moan. She can just hear it over Lem's ragged breathing.

 

Fero shifts so that one of his legs is between her thighs. Hella grips his hair a little tighter in response, her hips rolling against his thigh. Fero whines, the tail end of it growing louder as Hella kisses a line down his neck.

 

The sound is muffled again and Hella flicks her eyes up to see Lem quieting Fero with a kiss, one of his large hands cupping Fero's cheek. Hella slips a hand under the hem of Fero's shirt, running her nails lightly over his stomach. Fero squirms, his hands twisting in the fabric of Lem's shirt.

 

Hella curls her hand in the fabric of Lem and Fero's shirts, tugging. “Off.”

 

Fero grins. “Suppose it's only fair.”

 

His hands go to the hem of Lem's shirt, pulling at it and kissing along the newly exposed skin. Hella pulls Lem's shirt off the rest of the way, tilting Lem's face towards her to kiss him. Hella can feel Fero shift, his hand palming the growing bulge in Lem's pants. Lem moans sharply, arching up against Fero's hand. Hella grins, her own hand going for the fastening of Lem's pants.

 

Fero wriggles his hand in eagerly, freeing Lem's erection. Lem bites his lip, muffling a groan as Fero and Hella wrap a hand around his length. Lem drops back onto his elbows on the bed, his eyes still fixed on them. Hella leans back, her free hand ghosting over his chest, and Lem arches towards her touch.

 

Fero grinds against her leg, his movements clumsy without anything to leverage on, holding onto Hella’s side with one hand while his other hand works Lem, his fingers bumping into Hella's. Lem swallows a groan, his hands clutching the sheets and arms trembling with the effort of propping himself up.

 

“I'm guessing this is a bit different from your dream,” murmurs Hella.

 

“It was more… cramped. We were on a couch,” says Lem.

 

Fero brushes his thumb across the head of Lem's cock and Lem stutters to a stop, his words trailing into a ragged moan. His head drops back and he gasps, hips arching up.

 

Fero grins up at her. “Better in real life. Plus, y’know, you're here.”

 

Something warm shudders in Hella's chest. She leans down to kiss Fero, cradling the back of his head to control the angle. Fero is pliant against her, his hand on her waist flexing, his ragged nails scratching a little at the skin of her waist. Hella bites at his lip and Fero groans.

 

Lem squirms under their hands, probably as a response to their slowed pace. Hella breaks off the kiss with Fero to look down at Lem. The sheen of sweat on his body gleams, catching the flame's light as his chest heaves.

 

“Sorry,” says Hella, “guess we got distracted.”

 

Lem flushes. “Oh that's… I don't mind. You can. Um.”

 

Fero laughs, lifting up off Hella to clamber towards Lem. He settles on Lem's stomach, his hands tangling in Lem's hair as he kisses him. Lem slips a hand under Fero's shirt, rucking the fabric of it up a little as he runs his hand up and down Fero's back. Fero sighs, his hips shifting back and forth against Lem.

 

Hella plucks at the fabric of Fero's shirt. “Off.”

 

Lem hums in agreement, pausing to pull Fero's shirt over his head before he leans in to kiss Fero again. Hella kisses a trail along Fero's neck, down his shoulder. She runs her hands down Fero's sides, along his thighs and back up again to tease him through his pants. Fero groans, leaning back against her, his hand coming up to grip her shoulder.

 

Lem leans up, sliding his hand along Fero's jaw to cradle the back of Fero's head. He slides Fero down into his lap as he sits up. Fero breaks off the kiss to nuzzle at Lem's jaw, sucking bruises along Lem's collarbone. Lem whines, biting his lip to muffle the sound. Hella leans in, soothing his lip with her tongue for a moment before kissing him deeply.

 

Lem reaches over Fero to run his hand through Hella’s hair, tugging her towards him. Hella groans, feeling the heat of his hand travel through her. She swings her legs over Lem to straddle him, with Fero seated in front of her. She runs a hand over Fero's chest, cupping his breasts, and Fero squirms against her. Hella gasps at the sensation and Fero repeats the motion, a little more deliberately than before. One of his hands skims clumsily over the bare skin of Hella’s waist, and she shivers.

 

She can feel Fero wriggling between them, clutching at her shoulder, kissing his way across Lem's chest. She runs a hand through his hair, pressing herself against Fero so that he grinds down onto Lem's arousal. Lem and Fero both groan, and Hella grins against Lem's lips.

 

“ _Hella,_ ” says Lem breathlessly.

 

Hella hums, her hands brushing across Fero's waist to rest on Lem's hips.

 

“I have an idea,” says Hella, “follow my lead?”

 

Just as it had been in Nacre, they both nod. She looks them over for a moment -- Lem flushed and panting, clutching at Fero's waist, and Fero’s pupils wide as he looks up at her, his mouth red from sucking bruises across Lem's chest.

 

She kisses Fero, a hard, fast press of her lips that leaves him looking a little dazed as she climbs off Lem. She pushes back on Lem's shoulders until he's lying flat on the bed, blinking up at her.

 

She runs two fingers across his lips and he leans up and, without her prompting, takes them into his mouth. Behind her, Fero whines, shifting on Lem. Lem groans around her fingers, his mouth wet and hot as he tongues the calloused pads of her fingertips. Hella bites her lip, wriggling her other hand under her waistband. She can feel how wet she is, but it's still a shock when her fingers come into contact with her soaked underthings.

 

Hella pulls her fingers from Lem's lips and he makes a soft noise of protest. Hella leans down to kiss him softly.

 

“You'll like the replacement, I promise.”

 

She quickly wriggles out of her pants, settling back against the bed frame. She grins over at them. Lem and Fero's hands reach out to her newly-bared skin immediately, Fero's small hands running up the inside of her thighs and Lem's large hands sliding around the outside of her thighs.

 

Hella arches her hips towards Lem as he settles between them, her hands gripping the carved wooden bedhead. Fero pets his hands lightly through Lem's hair before he slides them up Hella's body. Fero presses close, mouthing at her neck as Lem nuzzles the thatch of hair between her thighs. Hella moans, gripping Lem's hair with one hand and clutching at Fero's shoulder with the other.

 

Lem shudders. She can feel the cool press of his tusks against her skin as his mouth works her. She rolls her hips, grinding up against his face in time with the rhythm of his tongue.

 

Fero’s teeth scrape along her collarbone. Hella's sharp gasp turns to a groan as he palms her breasts, rolling her nipple between his small fingers. He tilts her face down towards him to kiss her. Her breath is ragged, trailing into moans as the heat builds in her gut.

 

She trails her hand over Lem's shoulder to circle her clit, hips bucking against Lem's face. He moans against her, the vibrations of it shuddering through her. She can feel Lem's tusks against her skin again, moving slickly against her.

 

Hella grips Lem's head with both hands, tangling her fingers in his hair to pull him exactly where she wants him, where she _needs_ him to be. Lem follows with no resistance and it's that, as much as his mouth against her, that tips her over the edge.

 

Fero kisses up her chest as she comes back to herself, his touch feather-light and soft. Lem has his head propped against her knee, watching her through half-lidded eyes. Hella hums, reaching out to cup Lem's cheek. He presses a kiss to her palm, covering her hand with his.

 

Fero's kisses become a little more insistent as he reaches her throat. She runs a hand down his back, pressing him clumsily against her side. She can feel how wet he is, his slick skin against hers as he grinds against her hip. She ducks her head to kiss him, letting him run his hands through her tangled hair.

 

Hella feels Lem snake a hand between their bodies and Fero moans against her mouth, his hips bucking against Lem's hand. Lem watches them, his head still resting against her knee andhis mouth dropping open a little as he watches Fero moan into the crook of her neck. Hella slide her arm around Fero, holding him close against her. She can feel his legs trembling where he's kneeling on the bed next to her.

 

Fero presses his face into her collarbone, kissing along her skin, open-mouthed and messy. He reaches out clumsily to clutch at Lem's shoulder, his nails digging in. Fero’s hips arch with each movement of Lem's fingers inside him.

 

Hella can feel the puff of air on her knee as Lem exhales shakily, leaning closer. He reaches out and gently tucks some of Fero's sweat-slicked hair behind his ear. Fero looks up sharply, biting his lip.

 

“Be gentle,” says Hella.

 

She's not entirely sure which one of them she's talking to, but they both nod again.

 

Hella's hand flexes on Fero's side, keeping him steady as Lem leans over her to kiss him, Lem's body is a press of heat against both of them. Fero squirms, trying to wriggle in between both of their bodies. Hella pets a hand through Lem's braid, twining it around her fingers. Lem whines, his body tense like he doesn't know whether to lean into her or to pull away to increase the pressure on his scalp.

 

Fero makes the decision for him-- he cradles Lem's face in his hands, keeping Lem fixed in place as Hella winds Lem's braid around her hand again. Lem's hips rut against her hip and he groans against Fero's mouth. Hella lets go of his braid, trailing her fingertips lightly down his chest to wrap her hand around his cock.

 

Lem makes a choked sound, hips snapping up into her hand. Fero keeps one hand on Lem's cheek while his other slides down Lem's shoulder. Lem reaches up, grabbing Fero's hand and tangling their fingers together.

 

Fero pulls back, breathing hard. “Oh.”

 

She slows her movements, reaching out to cover Fero's hand that's cupping Lem's cheek with her own. Fero swallows hard, eyes wide as he looks from Lem to Hella. He bites his lip.

 

Hella slides her hand down his arm, pulling him flush against her. Lem moves closer, shifting so that his body blankets Fero. Lem leans over him to kiss her, deep and slow, the heat of it curling inside her, before leaning down to kiss Fero. Fero makes a keening noise, leaning towards Lem, his hands sliding over Lem and Hella as though he's trying to pull them both towards him, into him.

 

Lem teases his fingers over Fero’s thighs as Hella runs her hands over his breasts. Fero whines, squirming and trying to arch into both of them at once.

 

Hella leans in close, her lips brushing against the shell of Fero’s ear as she speaks. “Which one of us do you want?”

 

“I-- I don’t--” Fero gives a shuddering gasp, “Both, both, _please,_ can I--”

 

Lem looks up, meeting her eyes. His cheeks are flushed a deep green, and Hella can still some of her own wetness coating his chin.

 

“I think we can do that,” says Hella, “Don’t you, Lem?”

 

Lem nods, biting his lip. Hella leans up, over Fero, to kiss Lem, dragging him forward until he’s straddling Fero. Fero’s hips arch up against Lem, and they both groan. Fero runs his hands over her legs, trying desperately to pull her over his face.

 

“Gods, look at you,” says Hella, “so greedy for us.”

 

Fero makes a garbled noise of agreeance, nuzzling her thigh, his mouth open and tongue already flicking out in a desperate attempt to reach her.

 

“We’ll have to be careful, Lem,” says Hella, her hand still tangled in Lem’s hair as they part, “We don’t want to crush him.”

 

Fero groans again, small body almost completely covered by the both of them.

 

“Yes,” says Lem breathlessly, his eyes fixed on the sight of Fero mouthing at Hella’s inner thigh, “Right, careful. Absolutely.”

 

Hella puts two fingers under Lem’s chin, tilting his face up to look at her as she lowers herself over Fero’s mouth. Fero’s tongue slips inside her immediately, curling as Fero moans again. Hella lets out a shaky moan at the sensation of it.

 

She squeezes her eyes closed for a moment, feeling her muscles clench around Fero’s eager mouth. When she looks back at Lem his eyes are hazy, hips grinding against Fero’s.

 

“Now, Lem, we--” Hella gasps, takes a few breaths before she can speak again, “Lem, both of us, remember?”

 

Lem blinks, hands curling in the blanket. He lets out a shuddering breath, shifting positions slightly. Under them, Fero whines, a litany of words lost as he mumbles them into her skin.

 

Hella lifts her hips slightly. “What was that, Fero?”

 

“ _Please_ ,” says Fero. He sounds _wrecked_.

 

Fero’s shout as Lem eases into him is muffled as Hella lowers herself again. He’s less focused in his attentions now, rhythm broken up by moans. Hella shudders as the sound of it vibrates through her, sparking along her nerves.

 

Hella reaches out to put a hand on Lem's shoulder, digging her nails into his skin. Lem groans, a ragged sound. She can feel the force of him jolting Fero underneath her. She tries to split her focus between them, watching the slick movement of Lem's cock and looking down to where Fero is burrowed between her thighs.

 

She shifts on her knees, leaning forward to kiss Lem. The kiss is messy and wet, Lem moaning into her mouth as Fero arches upwards sharply. She can feel Fero lean up to follow her movement, body trembling with the effort.

 

Hella cradles the back of Lem's head as she pulls away, carding her hand through his tangled hair. Now that she's closer, Fero doubles his efforts, and her hand clenches in Lem’s hair. Lem lets out a high whine, falling forward onto his hands, his face pressed against her stomach. He mouths along her skin and Hella gasps, her nails scraping against his scalp. Lem groans.

 

She repeats the movement and Lem gasps, body shuddering off-rhythm.

 

“ _Hella_ ,” gasps Lem.

 

“Not yet,” says Hella, “I'm--”

 

She breaks off in a groan as Fero slips a finger inside her, lapping at her clit in time with the crook of his finger.

 

Lem's eyes are dark, the pupils blown wide as he stares at Fero. Hella feels herself flush, biting her lip as she grinds down onto Fero.

 

Lem slows the movement of his hips a little. “Here... “

 

He reaches forward tentatively, pushing a finger into her besides Fero's. Their rhythm is off for a moment, and Hella gasps at the dueling sensations of it.

 

Lem matches his motions to the movement of his hips and Fero follows him, matching their pace. Hella grips tightly onto Lem's shoulder, trying the ground herself as the heat rushes inside her, tightening and pulling and sending sparks of heat throughout her body.

 

Fero quickens the movements of his fingers and tongue and this time it's Lem who follows his lead. Fero and Hella moan, and Hella pulls Lem roughly towards her into a kiss. She can feels the shudder of movement through him as he fucks into Fero, the building speed keeping time with Fero groaning against her, into her.

 

Hella can feel her muscles tensing, straining for release. Fero murmurs something under her, and she lifts her hips a little, the question on her lips turning into a moan as Fero shifts, latching onto her swollen clit and _sucking._ Lem swallows the sound with a kiss, pressing lighter kisses across her cheeks, down her throat, as she rides Fero through the aftershocks.

 

She eases off Fero, still panting a little as she leans back. Lem stills, his hands sliding down Hella's chest to pet through Fero's damp hair. Fero whimpers, nuzzling Lem's hand. Hella slides down the bed to lie next to him, tilting his face towards her. She can taste herself on his lips.

 

Fero groans into her mouth as Lem shifts above him. When Hella looks up at Lem, he’s biting his lip, trembling a little.

 

“You don't have to hold back on my account,” says Hella. Her voice sounds _rough._ “In fact, I think Fero's would appreciate it if you didn't.”

 

Fero nods, panting. He reaches out blindly, grabbing Lem's hand and hers and squeezing them tightly.

 

“ _Please_ ,” says Fero.

 

Something flickers over Lem's face and her bends to kiss Fero, his free hand trailing over Fero's chest and stomach before slipping between his thighs. Fero whines, a high, sharp sound.

 

Hella hums, propping herself up on her elbow as she watches Lem roll his hips, Fero's body snapping up to meet Lem's like a wave, shaking as Lem thumbs Fero's clit in time with his thrusts. Hella presses a kiss to the back of Fero's hand, running the knuckles of their joined hands across Fero's chest, circling lightly over Fero's nipples.

 

Fero whines again, arching up, body trembling as he lets out a stream of curses. “I'm, I--”

 

Hella kisses him softly. It seems like he might break apart.

 

“We've got you,” says Hella quietly, “We're here, we've got you.”

 

Fero shudders, arching high off the bed as he comes, his hands clutched tightly in theirs. He collapses back, boneless, flopping his head to the side to look up at Hella. Fero smiles, letting go of her hand to trail a finger along the side of her face. She catches him by the wrist, pressing a light kiss to his palm, before she leans down to kiss him, a slow and lazy slide of their tongues.

 

Lem groans, and Hella and Fero turn back towards him. Fero grins. He pushes himself up, pushing at Lem's shoulders to flip their positions.

 

“Here,” says Fero, “let me.”

 

Lem blinks up at him. His mouth opens and closes for a moment before he speaks. “Weren't you always asking _me_ to ride _you_?”

 

Fero laughs, loud and bright, his body bouncing on top of Lem. Lem groans, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to muffle the sound.

 

Hella runs her hand up Lem's thighs, across Fero's legs, over the planes of Lem's stomach. Lem gives a ragged moan, clutching at the sheets. Hella untangles one of his hands, kissing along the inside of his wrist, across his chest, sucking bruises along his neck. She tilts Lem's head towards her to kiss him deeply. Lem opens under her easily, his hand grasping at her shoulder.

 

“Oh,” says Lem, into her mouth, a helpless sort of of sound, “oh, _oh_ \--”

 

His hips stutter as he tenses. Fero takes over the rhythm, working Lem through the waves. He stays seated on Lem, running his hands up Lem's chest. It reminds Hella of a cat, stretching in the warm sunlight. Fero certainly looks as though he would like to curl up on them both and go to sleep, eyes soft as he looks over at them.

 

Lem runs a hand along Fero's back and slips his other around Hella's side, pulling her close against him. She feels her muscles uncoiling as she lets herself rest against Lem. Fero makes a pleased humming sound, leaning towards Hella. She presses a kiss to his lips, light and fast, and he laughs. Hella grins, and leans in again. This kiss isn't as fast, or as light. When they break apart to take a breath, Lem leans forward, hesitating for a moment before he cards a hand through Fero's hair, and presses a kiss to Hella's lips. The slow heat of it washes through Hella's body like the morning sun.

 

They stay like that for a while, trading lazy kisses back and forth. They have the time, and that in itself would be enough of a novelty, even if it weren't for the soft warmth seeping into her bones from their bodies.

 

Hella trails her hand up Fero's side and he squirms, wrinkling his nose.

 

“Oh, ticklish?” says Hella, grinning.

 

“No,” says Fero, still squirming.

 

“Very,” says Lem, at the same time, reaching for Fero's side.

 

Fero laughs, half-falling off Lem's lap, still laughing as his arms flail to stop himself falling off the bed. He makes a face and Hella nods in understanding, rolling to the side of the bed to reach for one of their shirts.

 

“Hey!” says Lem.

 

“You have other shirts,” says Fero primly, taking the shirt from Hella.

 

“Not really,” says Lem, “I lost most things when I went through to... “

 

“Oh,” says Fero, his eyes widening, “I didn't-- uh, I'll get you another shirt.”

 

“What am I supposed to do until then?” says Lem.

 

His tone is sulky, but his hand slides around Fero's waist, pulling him in close again. Hella reaches across him to rest her hand on Fero's.

 

“You could always wear one of Fero's,” says Hella mildly.

 

Lem frowns. “No, I couldn't, it's-- oh, that's a joke.”

 

Fero cackles, pressing his face against Lem's shoulder. Hella grins at them both.

 

Lem huffs a laugh. “I'd forgotten you did that.”

 

“So did I,” says Hella. She pauses. The slow crackle of the fire in the hearth is the only sound she can hear. It makes the world feel very small, all of a sudden. She licks her lips. “This is… tonight has been nice.”

 

Fero clears his throat. “Yeah, uh. So. How long do you have the room?”

 

There's a faint flush on his cheeks. He’s looking down, tracing his fingers along her arm in absent minded patterns.

 

“However long we need it,” says Hella, “I think we're moving on tomorrow.”

 

“Oh,” says Fero, “right.”

 

“Well, end of the world, we should probably get going,” says Hella.

 

Her throat feels tight, like too many words are trying to force their way out of her.

 

“But tonight is… okay?” says Lem hesitantly.

 

Hella nods. She rests her head down on Lem's shoulder. She can feel Fero's muscles twitch under her hand, where she's resting it against his side. She watches the light of the flames for a moment, the flickering shadows they throw around the room.

 

“There’ll be other inns along the way, probably,” says Lem.

 

“I'll try to remember to book my own room,” says Fero, a lopsided grin on his face.

 

“I don't mind sharing,” says Hella, “It's warmer, for one thing, and we're going to need that out on the road.”

 

“On the road?” says Lem.

 

Hella looks back towards the hearth. “We don't have to-- Obviously.”

 

“No, I--” Lem reaches up, brushing the hair back from her eyes. “That sounds nice, actually. Really… nice.”

 

“Oh,” says Hella.

 

Fero twitches. “Sounds great for you guys.”

 

Hella looks over at Fero sharply. “Sounds great for all three of us.”

 

Fero frowns for a moment before understanding flickers over his face. “ _Oh_.”

 

Lem inhales sharply. “Fero...”

 

He pulls Fero closer, almost seeming like an involuntary motion. Fero braces a hand on Lem's chest, eyes wide as he looks between them both.

 

“I don't want to… uh… I mean, don't feel like you _have_ to, just because I'm here right now.”

 

“Fero,” says Hella seriously, “when have you _ever_ known me to avoid being rude.”

 

“Yeah,” says Lem, “couldn't do it without you.” He blushes faintly. “I mean--”

 

“I know what you mean,” says Fero.

 

Lem's gaze softens. “You always do.”

 

Fero blushes again, looking pleased. He wriggles, settling back into the crook of Lem's arm before he reaches across Lem for Hella’s hand, tangling their fingers together.

 

“Well,” says Lem. He lets out a long exhale.

 

Hella and Fero both hum in agreement. Hella’s arm rises and falls with Lem’s even breaths where it’s draped across his chest. Fero squeezes her hand and looks over at him, smiling at his pleased expression.

 

“We should try to get some actual sleep,” says Hella.

 

Lem hums, his eyes already closed. Fero laughs softly, pressing a kiss to Lem’s side and one to the back of Hella’s hand before he closes his eyes. Hella watches them for a moment, Lem’s deep, even breaths and Fero’s quiet sigh as he slips into sleep. The fire has died down low, but the heat remains in the room, curling around their bodies as they lie tangled together.

 

Tomorrow will be a long day, but she will have this warmth to sustain her through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most place

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


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